


Building Bridges

by ampersandsinink



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampersandsinink/pseuds/ampersandsinink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey...so, this took a while. I'm so sorry.<br/>This is the second installment in the Uncle Pete series.<br/>I know a lot has happened on the show, and I don't know if anyone even wants to read this anymore, but I wrote this and thought I should post it. I don't have a beta at the moment, so I tried to revise it to the best of my abilities. One person said they would, but then I never heard from them again. If anyone wants to help a sister out, let me know. So...yeah. Enjoy?!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Building Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Hey...so, this took a while. I'm so sorry.  
> This is the second installment in the Uncle Pete series.  
> I know a lot has happened on the show, and I don't know if anyone even wants to read this anymore, but I wrote this and thought I should post it. I don't have a beta at the moment, so I tried to revise it to the best of my abilities. One person said they would, but then I never heard from them again. If anyone wants to help a sister out, let me know. So...yeah. Enjoy?!

Dinner at the Stilinski house wasn't usually quiet, but ever since Laura's accident Stiles doesn't talk a lot anymore. His father had approved of his sons friendship with the librarian. Ever since his wife's passing, he hasn't been the best at taking care of his son the way he should. Laura was a big help to him. He wouldn't have to worry about his son going to bed hungry or needing help with his homework when she was around, and he couldn't have thanked her enough. But she isn't around now, and readjusting to life without her was hard on both Stilinski men.

The sheriff should know how to talk to his son, especially when it comes to loss, but he was never gifted with words. Instead he opted for chit chat.

"Anything new with you?" He tried.

"Derek's back." Stiles mentioned, not bothering to look up from the food he was shuffling around his plate. The sheriff dropped his fork, startling him. "Dad?"

The sheriff had remembered the visit from Peter Hale a couple years ago. Peter explained what his family was, even transforming to prove it. When Mr. Stilinski asked Peter why he was telling him, Peter told him he was going to find out sooner or later. The werewolf went on to ramble about hormones and pheromones and other nonsense until the sheriff asked the same question again. He didn't like the real answer. Stiles was supposed to be Derek's mate, whatever that meant. It didn't sound good to him. Before he had a heart attack Peter assured him his son wasn't in any danger. Apparently Derek had left, but Peter was there to tell him that eventually Derek will come back, and will claim Stiles. He didn't like the sound of that either. Peter left him with his thoughts, and he decided he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

Now he was standing at that bridge, and maybe his first step would be another conversation with Peter.

"Dad?" Stiles tried again.

"Sorry," his father finally answered, picking up his fork. "It's just...this case at work. I, uh, I think I figured it out."

Usually stiles would beg his dad to give him the details, but Stiles had enough on his mind.

* * *

Even though Derek was only twenty one, he felt like he knew more than most people he came into contact with. If he was honest with himself he always felt like that. When he was seventeen he thought he knew best, leaving Beacon Hill for Nevada. He ended up somewhere between Reno and Las Vegas, finding a job at a grocery store, trying to stay low key. He barely felt his wolf out there, and he had gotten good about ignoring the whole 'Stiles' thing. Really, though, he had. He barely ever thought about him…except when his heat came. It hadn't hit him as hard in Nevada, but the past year it was worst he's ever had. Stiles was older now, almost ready to be claimed by Derek. He was still too young in Derek's eyes though, so he resorted too cold showers and aggressive masturbation.

Every once in a while he would try, really try to find someone to replace Stiles. Actually shave and put on nice clothes. He'd go to a bar or nightclub, smile at people. He even made a joke once or twice that was funny. He never made it past a bathroom blowjob or numbers he never had the nerve to call. Returning to his cold bed was disheartening, but familiar. But now he's older now, and he is (as a matter of fact) smarter. He knew he didn't belong in Nevada. The burnt down house in the middle of these wolf infested hills was likely to always be his home, but right now he was standing in the Stilinski home.

He knew he shouldn't be there. He hadn't broken into a house in years, but it he had no idea who Stiles was now. He wanted to get to know what Stiles was about now, and for some reason he figured the best way to do that is by going through his room. He waited until he knew Stiles was in school, waiting even longer in his car before going in.

He entered the teenager's room from the windows. He stood in the center of the room for a few seconds, figuring out where to start. He decided on the teenager's laptop. It took him a couple minutes to figure out Stiles password, wolfpack24. He looked at the teenager's browser history, smiling at what he found. It was half searches about werewolves, and half was porn. Apparently Stiles didn't really have a type when it came to the porn he watched. Gay, straight, lesbian, costumes, bondage, sex in public; it seemed like almost anything turned that boy on. Derek thought about his horny youth for a second, smiling a bit more.

After he went through every folder on the computer he crossed the room. He looked at the few pictures of Stiles and Laura that were on the wall above the dresser. Derek's heart started to race as his eyes traces the details of their face. There was one of them smiling at the library. It looked like the library was having some kind of fundraiser that the two were working. Without warning his stomach dropped and a wave of nausea washed over him. This harmless teenager and his sister he loved, that is what he had run away from. He had missed so much while he was in Nevada. He picked a different photo off the wall before putting it in his pocket.

On top the dresser was one of Stiles' shirts. It seemed like a lot of his clothes were monochromatic in cool tones. Derek really liked that. His hand hovered over the shirt before picking it up. He wanted to stick his nose in it, immerse himself in it, but he practiced using his self-control. He ran his fingers over the fabric, its softness almost mesmerizing.

"I thought I might find you here this week," a voice suddenly rang through the empty rooms. Derek turned around to see the Sheriff, starting to wonder just how out of practice his wolf senses are. He didn't know what to say to the father of his under aged mate as he was holding the teenagers shirt. "Peter said you would come back at some point, I just hoped it was when he was in college."

"Me too," he muttered, looking away from the man. "Mr. Stilinski," he tried before being cut off.

"He warned me that you'd be back for my son."

"I'm back for my sister funeral," Derek contested, his eyes

"So you're going to leave soon?" The sheriff asked. Derek averted his eyes once more. "That's what I thought."

"I would never hurt stiles." Derek growled. He could feel his eyes start to change.

"Intentionally! Look at you now, breaking into my house, you can barely contain yourself. I've seen Scott wolf out. He can barely control it-"

"Scott is a teenager," Derek tried to argued.

"And you're barely old enough to drink." The older man had a point, and that annoyed the werewolf.

"You can't keep him away from me." Derek blurted out before he could stop himself. He made an attempt to quell his anger before his claws ripped through Stiles' shirt, which was still in his hands for some reason.

"Considering how close he and Scott are to Peter, I don't think I could keep him from being around you. Not that he would listen to me if I tried. But I can keep you from sneaking into my son's room. And if you ever lay a finger on him I will see to it you will never see the light of day again." The sheriff threatened, feeling his chest puff up a bit. Derek could tell he wasn't lying.

"You know that'll hurt Stiles, right?" Derek said in a much quieter tone. The older man blinked at him. "We're already bonded. He will always be mine, even if I never say a word to him again. Now that he's a teenager our connection is stronger, and it will only continue to grow. He's going to start thinking about me, possibly have dreams. He'll become confused. He'll be hurting, and he won't understand why, but you'll know." Derek's mind was flooded with memories of tossing and turning in bed. The older man turned around, not wanting to look at Derek. "Wait long enough and see that I'm right, or just believe me when I say I would never hurt Stiles." Derek finish, his tone more earnest than he's ever used.

Stiles' father turned back around to look him in the eye. They stared each other down. Eventually the sheriff blinked, his eye's dropping to Derek's hands. Derek gently put the shirt down on the bed before walking past him. Now that Derek was caught there was no reason for him to climb out the window. The older man finally turned around after Derek had stepped down a few stairs.

"Why him?" He asked. Derek stopped at the question. It's one he'd asked himself over and over again.

"It wasn't my decision," Derek answered without looking up from his feet. "It just...happened."

The sheriff hadn't like that answer, but he could tell Derek didn't either. He stayed quiet as another Hale left his house.

* * *

It was almost the end of the school day when Scott finally noticed it.

"Did you get a new sweater?" Scott asked, his eye dragging down Stiles body. It didn't smell right, and it was solid red, a color he didn't see on Stiles much. Stiles looked down at his clothes, realizing what Scott was talking about. He was so tired and rushed this morning he didn't even notice that was the jacket he grabbed. He then looked to his paper, not wanting to really talk about it.

"It's Laura's," Stiles all but whispered. Scott stopped himself from asking anymore questions.

Laura's death hit Stiles more than Scott thought it would. He thought they were friends, or book buddies, but Scott wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Even before he started dating Allison, he had missed the point when Laura became a big sister instead of a school yard crush. Since she's died it's become much more obvious. He started to notice things he hadn't before. He noticed there were a few pictures of them together in Stiles' room. He noticed a few stuffed animals placed randomly about that had never caught his eye before. Wolf pups. Sometimes Scott would come over to hang out, or (God forbid) get Stiles out of the house. Stiles would always decline Scott's invitation. At first his eyes would flicker to a stuffed animal for a second, but now when he says 'No' he'll just stare blankly at one. Hygiene was never at the top of Stiles' priority list, but it had somehow slid further to the bottom. Scott wanted to tell him it was going to be okay. It had been sixteen days since Laura's fatal accident, and four days since the funeral. Scott's mind was racing. He wanted to tell Stiles that everything would be okay. That Derek was here for good, and that Stiles might even like him better than Laura. But he couldn't, and it was making his skin crawl.

Scott was so busy with his own thoughts he didn't even noticed Stiles had lied. Stiles knew it wasn't Laura's. He'd never her seen her wear it in the years he's know her. It must be Derek's.

Something about Derek made Stiles nervous. No one had ever looked at him the way Derek did, and he couldn't decide what it meant. The night before, Scott and Stiles had dinner at Pete's. Derek had decided to join them, not saying much the whole time. Stiles could feel the werewolf's eyes burning a hole in him. A few times he dared to look at Derek, but the werewolf would just meet his gaze before dropping his eyes to his food. The first thing that came to mind when he tried to decode Derek's glare was hate. He must hate Stiles, obviously, but...why? Derek didn't even know Stiles. It's not like he'd even been his bothersome self lately. Whatever it was, he didn't want to think about it. Derek would probably be gone soon and he could focus on more important things.

After school, Stiles asked Scott to get a ride from Allison. He didn't feel like going to Pete's today. He knows he should, but he just can't do it today. Pulling up to his house, he noticed Derek's car driving away. His brow arched at the sight, but dismisses it quickly. When he got inside he saw himself in the mirror and stopped. He looked at himself in Derek's jacket. It was a size or two too big for him, but overall he though he looked good on the outside for how bad he felt on the inside.

When he went to his room, he noticed a shirt on the bed. He picked it up, almost smelling it to see if it was clean. He decided he didn't care and threw it in the corner. Stiles didn't see his dad watching him through his open door.

* * *

After Derek's conversation (not that he's sure he'd call it that), he drove around for a bit before finding himself parked at the graveyard. With a sigh he exited his car and made his way onto the grass.

He wandered around the graveyard for a while, reading every name he came across. Eventually he entered the section where his family was laid to rest, regretting for a second that he hadn't stopped for flowers. He tried not to think much about his family. It made his heart sink when he thought of his mother's smile or his father's laugh. Those memories have almost faded completely, they were so long ago. That was in the past now, though. These days everything was different in Beacon Hills, partially thanks to Laura. When he finally got to her semi-fresh grave, he hesitated before taking a seat. She had begun a friendship with his mate. She had helped Peter with rebuilding the pack. If she was alive, he doesn't know if he'd hit her or kiss her. He closed his eyes for a second, remembering their goodbyes. Derek had told her he loved her, and he meant it.

When he opened his eyes a figure in the distance caught his attention. It was the kid he'd caught a glimpse of at the funeral. His blond curls were hard to miss when the sun was out. The teenager was taking off his jacket, revealing a few bruises on his upper arms. Derek wanted to cringe, but instead watched as the kid revel in the feeling of sun on his skin. Within a few minutes the teenager noticed Derek staring at him. He then noticed where Derek was sitting. Gathering all the nerve he had, the teenager walked over to the older man. Derek stood up as he approached. The blond bowed his head, trying to find his words.

"She...Laura," the teenager started after a bit. "Whenever my dad...when I needed a quiet place, I would go to the Library, and she was always really nice to me." He finally looked up, meeting the werewolves eyes. Suddenly it clicked in Derek's had where the bruises had come from.

"Thank you." Derek said, mad at the shaky tone that came out. The kid nodded before turning to walk away. He made it a few steps before Derek stopped him. "Does that not happen a lot? People being nice to you."

The question was one no one had ever asked him, besides Laura. He turned back around to face Derek.

"Most people don't really notice me." The kid answered timidly.

"What's your name?" The werewolf asked before he could stop himself. His gaze was intense, and locked on the teenager.

"Isaac." He answered, but Derek continued to stare at him. "Isaac Lahey."

* * *

The Hale house was quiet without Stiles yammering about. Scott found himself sitting in the kitchen with Pete, looking through his freshman yearbook. Pete wanted his new pack to be mostly composed of teenagers. He told Scott that since they're younger the pain of the bite and transformation isn't as bad. Apparently they were easier to train as well. It made sense to Scott, not that he really thought about it.

There was a pad of paper and pen lying next to the yearbook as well. They had a few names already written down. Pete was pushing for Jackson, but Scott did not think that was a good idea. Danny's name came up, but Scott was hesitant about him for another reason. Danny was actually nice, to everyone, and unlike Scott he was smart. Scott could imagine it though, Danny with glowing eyes and claws growing. He _would_ feel safer with that kind of backup.

No girls had really caught Pete's eye. Scott knew Allison could never become what he was, but Lydia was another story. She was smart, like Danny, but unlike him she had a wicked side. Then again if she got turned, Jackson wouldn't be far behind. Scott hadn't let her name slip out of his mouth, but Pete did mention that the redhead from the funeral looked nice.

For a few hours they went picture by picture, Scott giving Pete a summary about each person. Sometimes they'd go onto Pete's laptop and look at certain kid's social media profiles. By the time the sun started to set there were two more names on the list, accompanied by question marks.

Pete decided they earned themselves a break. Scott got up and went to the back porch to call his mom. Pete knew Scott was a good kid, but he wished the teenager would be more willing to help the pack grow. Scott didn't know what elements too look for in these potential wolves, and Pete didn't feel like explaining it to him. He wished Stiles had come. That kid got it. Deciding to wait for Derek to dinner, Pete made his way to the living room. He's barely gotten to the couch when the front door flew open. Derek walked right up to him.

"Isaac Lahey," Derek stated, his voice lacking anger but not intensity. "You want to turn teenagers into werewolves? Start with him." With that, Derek all but stomped upstairs.

A couple minutes later Scott entered the room. He stopped when he saw the inquisitive look on Pete's face.

"Scott," Pete grinned, "tell me what you know about Isaac Lahey."


End file.
